


The Alternative to Literature

by KanarandTarkaleanTea



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:19:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanarandTarkaleanTea/pseuds/KanarandTarkaleanTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What better way to spend a lunch hour than discussing literature?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Alternative to Literature

**Author's Note:**

> Set just shortly after when Garak and Bashir first meet. A bit over the top in spots, but all meant in good fun.

He wasn’t sure what exactly had possessed him; perhaps it stemmed from a desire to prove himself to the senior staff by gathering valuable information about the resident Cardassian spy…. or maybe it was the thrill of doing something that, while not really _verboten_ , was at least somewhat questionable. Either way he had ended up in the tailor’s shop, trying to see exactly what “a bit of enjoyable company” meant to a Cardassian.

“My dear Dr. Bashir. What a _pleasant_ surprise. Have you come to avail yourself of my services today?” Garak stepped around from behind his work table and smiled amiably at the young man, but Bashir couldn’t help but feel there was more behind the smile than simple friendliness.

Bashir felt the same flutter of nerves he had experienced when the tailor introduced himself the other day. Something about the Cardassian made him weak in the knees; everything he said — every glance — seemed to be a come-on. But a come-on to what, Bashir wasn’t sure.

 _Surely it is some sort of cultural difference,_ the doctor told himself. Even while hiding in the shop’s fitting room the other night, the tailor had seemed flirtatious with the Klingon sisters. And if ever there was a situation inappropriate for flirtation, it had been then. So perhaps he was misinterpreting the man’s intent. His experience with Cardassians was practically non-existent. Maybe this was the way all Cardassians interacted.

He gathered his wits and tried to act nonchalant. “Well, actually, I thought you might like to join me for lunch sometime this week. As you noted the other day, I’m new to the station and I thought it might be a good idea to get to know a few of the residents. To get a feel for the place.”

“A very sound course of action. It is always wise to thoroughly acquaint oneself with a new environment. And believe me, my young friend, if there is _any_ way that I can be of service, you have only to ask.” The Cardassian purred.

Bashir could feel a blush spread across his cheeks; the tailor’s manner and words dripped with innuendo. “Well, that’s most generous, Garak. But I wouldn’t want to put you out….”

“Oh, my dear young man, it has been years since I’ve been turned… I mean put… out.”

Bashir began to stammer. “…Yes, well, and seeing as you introduced yourself the other day, I thought I’d start here.”

“I am even more pleased that I introduced myself, then. The second I saw you, doctor, I thought to myself: Surely this charming young man could use a confederate in this new environment. I could provide a guiding hand, if you will permit me the honor.” The tailor leaned in, his breath ghosting against the hairs on Bashir’s neck. “I have little doubt that our time together will be… mutually gratifying.”

Bashir swallowed dryly, every muscle in his body tense from the other man’s proximity. “I think that learning about other cultures is always gratifying. I fear I know very little about Cardassia. Aside from what they teach us at the Academy. Maybe we can tell each other a little about our respective cultures.”

The tailor brightened at the idea immediately. “A _splendid_ idea, doctor. And I would of course like to know much more about you. I’m afraid Cardassia does not always focus on the strengths of other races — a regrettable shortsightedness. My knowledge of the Federation, and humans in particular, is sadly limited. I have always been intrigued by humans, though. Such lovely creatures.”

“Well, then, how about lunch tomorrow in the replimat at, say, 1230 hours?”

“I look forward to it,” Garak said, and this time Bashir had no doubt about there being more behind his smile.

* * * 

With a slight tremor in his hand, Bashir set his tray down on the table. After some deliberation, the doctor had chosen a very centrally located table, not wishing to give anyone the impression that he and Garak were conspiring together in private. Conspiring over what, he wasn’t sure, but he wanted their dealings to be very much in the public eye… just in case.

He tried not to jump when the Cardassian glided into the seat across from him and laid a hand over his. “Might I say that this was an excellent choice, doctor. When you first came into my shop yesterday, I had rather thought you were going to suggest another, more intimate, venue. But I often find location to be such a good indicator of the type of interaction a person expects, don’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Garak smiled gently. “So, what would you like to discuss today? I was thinking poetry.”

Bashir returned the smile, feeling a little bit more at ease despite the unexpected topic suggested. “Poetry? And here I thought that you would try and use this lunch as a time to pump me for classified information.”

““Pump” you for information doctor? What an odd expression. But no, as I have told you before, I am merely a plain and simple tailor, endeavoring to make a new friend. And you can hardly begrudge me for wishing to get to know such a charming young man such as yourself.”

“Through the discussion of poetry?”

“Poetry, my dear doctor, though I would be happy with literature in general. I have always found the written word to encapsulate the essence of any society. While visual art is enlightening, it is so often reactionary against the styles that have come before. And while literature is not completely immune to such puerile motives, I have always felt it more clearly demonstrates the _pret’th’sharana_ of the people.”

“The translator didn’t get that. _Pret’th’sharana_?”

“Hmmm. How to describe it… In my culture, all citizens are thought to be connected to each other through devotion to the state. Some of our more, shall we say, “emotional philosophers” have likened this to a collective thought force that connects everyone in an almost spiritual way. Each era is typified by a certain “spirit of the age” that permeates the populace, and this all-encompassing thought pattern is called the _pret’th’sharana_.” 

“Humans have something similar, but we call it the _zeitgeist_ ”

“Ah, how delightful to learn that our cultures share this idea! I feel it is very important to find common bonds such as this. It aids in the mutual understanding between very disparate groups of people. Parallels, especially in literature, are…doctor, do I have something on my face?”

Bashir shook himself from his somewhat glazed inspection of his lunch companion. “What? No… sorry, I..”

Garak smiled knowingly. “Perhaps that look is more an indication that I am boring you rather than the state of my appearance?”

“No, not at all,” Bashir said, and then paused. “I suppose I just hadn’t expected our lunch conversation to be of such a… well… academic nature.”

The Cardassian chuckled. “Ah. Of course. You must forgive me, but in Cardassian culture it is standard practice to use mealtimes as an arena to discuss such things. What better time to fully immerse oneself in intellectual pursuits than when one is digesting? But maybe this is not so for all cultures. Perhaps literature and philosophy are a bit heavy for lunchtime conversation to humans?”

Bashir laughed. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting it.”

Garak tilted his head in a small bow of apology. “Please pardon my assumptions, then. But as I said before, I was operating on the basis of your very public venue choice. A minor cultural misunderstanding, obviously. Perhaps you’re right. We should have started with sex.” 

Bashir nearly spit out his tea. “What?”

“Sex, doctor. Intimate liaisons as a way of exchanging cultural information. In fact, I think it is one of the most succinct ways to learn more about a different race.”

“No, I mean, well I suppose it could be but… well… humans don’t exactly view sex in that way.”

“Really? On my own world it is a very common approach. What is more fundamental to a species than the act of intercourse?”

Bashir knew that by now his face was completely red. “Um, maybe, but…”

Garak smiled at him toothily, apparently greatly enjoying his discomfiture. “But perhaps you would like to stick to literature for now?”

“Um, yes, I think we should stick with literature.”

“Of course. Forget I even brought the other matter up. Now, as I was saying — I really think that finding common philosophical ideas as investigated through the medium of literature to be…”

But, in spite of his suggestion to forget the matter, as the Cardassian continued to explore the idea of the zeitgeist as it pertained to poetry during the founding of the Cardassian Union, Bashir found himself quite unable to think of anything but the alternative option to the discussion of literature.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for typos - not beta'd.


End file.
